What’s the weather like in Mordor?

Among my interests is Speculative Geographies, an interdiscipline best described as the study of hypothetical, fictional or otherwise non-realist geography.

On the micro-level, it’s the study of how a wardrobe in ‘our’ world can open up into Narnia, or what it is about Prague that allows protestors to march into the sky in a Milan Kundera novel.

But one of the things I always yearned for was a macro-level. Something that went beyond the ‘spaces and places’ superficiality and attempted to encompass imaginary geographies in the whole. These days we have a technology which can do that, at least on a meteorological level, which is climate modelling, the same methodology used by climate scientists to model theories about where our own climate is headed.

So it was pleasingly inevitable that eventually someone would goof off between running El Nino frequencies or iceberg melt rates and plug in the maps of Middle-Earth and Westeros to see just how credible was the worldbuilding of two of our most lauded fantasy novelists. And the results are … surprising.

Tolkien’s hand-drawn and annotated map of Middle-Earth. Copyright the Tolkien Estate.

Why surprising? Well, firstly because neither J.R.R. Tolkien, nor his middle initials namesake George R.R. Martin are in any way renowned as climatologists. If anything, the opposite was assumed. Scientists have long looked at the famous map of Middle-Earth, with its famously rectangular mountains surrounding Mordor, and wondered if Tolkien ever left his study or lecture hall to look outside. (Reader, he did. He was an avid lover of nature, and a keen cartographer, as revealed in a semi-recent exhibition at Oxford’s Bodleian and elsewhere.)

Furthermore, Tolkien’s cartography was such an affront to one scientist, the Russian arachnid expert Kyril Yeskov, that he spent the downtime during a quiet research break in Siberia writing a kind of realist correction to The Lord of the Rings.

The resulting text, which is free on the internet in English due to obvious copyright issues, moved swiftly beyond Yeskov’s irritation at what he felt was Tolkien’s dubious geographies, to examine more serious or worrying concerns – how the trilogy (or hexalogy to be exact) presents a good vs evil spectrum that mostly operates on a West vs East paradigm, and the not-very-well-hidden racist underpinnings that seem to arise from that.

Yeskov’s The Last Ringbearer therefore is a realist text, written from the point of view of an orc (who in this version are merely more swarthy versions of humanity), which depicts the overthrow of an enlightened and scientifically focused multicultural Mordor by an imperialist, racist, fascist (ie Elvish) west. As counter-readings go, it’s magnificent. I once wrote a whole essay on it, which can be found here.

But Yeskov’s initial inspiration has proven to be somewhat untrue. Despite the square mountain range, Tolkien’s geography for Middle-Earth passes the climate modelling test. Tolkien once claimed that the Shire was located at the equivalent of Oxford whereas Minas Tirith in Gondor was the latitudinal equivalent of Florence in Italy in our world. The climate modelling roughly bears this out.

There’s been less criticism of George R.R. Martin’s geographical imaginings, perhaps because A Song of Ice and Fire still isn’t completed and perhaps because the TV adaptation seemed to disappoint a lot of fans in its closing season or two. But it still poses questions worth asking climatologists, such as how come it has such lengthy seasons.

Westeros – cute but nowhere near as sumptuous as the Game of Thrones opening credits

“Winter is coming” is no idle threat in Westeros. It lasts a lot longer than a couple of months. Like Brian Aldiss’s astonishing (and sadly neglected) Helliconia trilogy, Westeros has generally suffered from extensively elongated seasons. Aldiss, after consulting scientists, located his Helliconia planet in a complex binary star system, which results in seasons that are centuries long.

Westeros by comparison has shorter seasons, peaking at a few years, but a few years of winter is enough for anyone, even before you get to the ice zombies invading. Additionally, they are erratic and unpredictable. Is this even plausible, from a geographical or climate perspective?

The same study that vindicated Tolkien produced a theory to explain Westeros’s seasons, involving variable axial tilt of the planet. (It must be noted that many scientists are also fantasy nerds, and the cause of Westeros’s weather has been hotly disputed for many years, with various explanations proposed, but this seems to fit best.)

This doesn’t make Tolkien and Martin fastidiously scientific worldbuilders anymore than it legitimises Tolkien’s ‘East is evil, West is good’ morality, and it certainly does nothing to improve the finale of Game of Thrones. But it does suggest that a lot more consideration went into these fantastikal texts than is generally noted.

And to answer the titular rhetorical question, the weather in Mordor is pretty damn evil.

Gaslit by Goblins – the dictionary definition

There is dissent among the lexicographers!

Whereas last year the Oxford English Dictionary (with the somewhat American-sounding diminutive ‘vax’) and Merriam-Webster (with the more formal, and somehow British sounding vaccine) concurred on word of the year, this time they have diverged.

For the M-W, this year’s word is ‘gaslighting’, a not-especially-new term used to describe a kind of cruel psychological manipulation. However, the OED put their favoured options (which included a phrase and a hashtag!) to a public vote, and came up with ‘goblin mode’.

What is ‘goblin mode’, you may ask? Some Tolkienesque monstrous tendency to murderous behaviour?

Goblin Mode?

No, apparently it is a term of online usage which is defined as “a type of behaviour which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations.”

In other words, the kind of behaviour one expects from people who consider hashtags to be words and eschew responsibility by putting their work out to a vote.

I feel like the OED has started gaslighting me. I’m team Merriam-Webster until the goblin mode ceases in Oxford.

Percy Bysshe Shelley contemplates the linguistic topography of Middle-Earth’s Third Age

I
Inscribed in Black Speech of Mordor, not Adûnaic

I weep for Adûnaic—it is dead!

Oh, weep for Adûnaic! Extinct tongue

of sunken Númenór! Of men who fled

their language and their home to live among

elves, ents and hobbits, dwarves and orcish dung.

Oh Adûnaic! speech of kingly fools!

Forgot among the songs of the Third Age,

Sindarin, Quenya, even Dwarf Khuzdul.

Such linguistic neglect bringeth me rage.

No Adûnaic now in Middle-Earth

abides in minds of ents or mine-dwellers,

nor elves nor hobbits. Such a shameful dearth!

This lost tongue of rangers and Gondor fellows.